Chapter Twenty-Two
Present - Ryder
TAKING A DEEP breath, I force out the words. “After you got adopted, I ran off. You already know about the in between, and that I started at the bar just over four years ago. I knew someone who knew someone, and The Swan was hiring. They told me it was a bartending gig, they’d get me my license and there would be extra perks, in addition to the tips. At the time, I thought it may be a gift from a long-lost guardian angel.
“My first few weeks at the bar were great. I was making easy money, could sleep in late and work only a handful of days out of the week. Between the tips and extra perks, I was making way more than I could have made at any honest job offered to a kid without a diploma.”
“You keep mentioning the perks, but you haven’t explained exactly what it means.”
“Well, there’s a VIP lounge behind The Swan. There’s only one way in and one way out, through a hidden door, and I control the access button from under the bar. There’s dancers, better alcohol, and…access to pills.”
Evie says nothing, forcing me to continue, but the look on her face is one that will haunt me forever. “All I had to do was turn a blind eye to some kids who wanted to party, nobody got hurt. The boss was involved with some shit, that I knew, but he felt so far away from what I was doing. At least until….”
“Until what ?”
“Until I saw Brooke for the first time.”
“So that’s the real reason you two don’t get along.”
I nod. “She has every right to hate me.”
“What happened?”
“Victor—the boss at that time—brought Brooke and her friend to the bar before opening one afternoon. It was obvious that they didn’t want to be there, but Victor motioned for me to push the button. I hesitated, not knowing what would happen to those two girls if I opened the door. He’d always kept business completely separate from the bar, but there I was, thrown right into the middle of it.
“Brooke gave me this look—permission, I guess. It saved my life.” My hand drags across my jaw. “I held my breath for what felt like hours, but the girls eventually left the bar completely fine. I’d thought maybe my conscience got away unscathed, just like them, but a few days later, word got around about a shooting. Victor was dead, and I knew if there was ever a time to walk away, it was then, a way out under the radar.
“I spent the entire day considering what I should do and ultimately decided that I had more money than I thought I’d ever have. If you’d been there with me, you would have told me that my soul was more important, and I should walk away.
“The only problem was that I’d been told that a new girl was starting in the bar. I thought maybe it would be Brooke. It would explain why she was at the bar that day and I owed her my life. So I went into the bar, ready to pay my debt and warn her about what she was really getting into.
“Except when I got there, it was Terra behind the bar, not Brooke. And Stefan was already waiting there, drenched in the blood of those who weren’t taking his takeover with a smile on their face and a hand over their heart.”
Evie places her hands over her mouth, eyes wide.
My stomach churns at the memory, permanently brazed into my mind. “I learned that he was sent by a Russian family to gain a foothold in Tampa while the area was in turmoil, despite being one of the smaller ports. He’s held my leash ever since.”
“I don’t want to hear any more.”
Gripping her chin, I force Evie to look at me. “You said you wanted to know everything. This is everything. Stefan is a sadist. Where Victor played the game for money and fear, Stefan invented the game so there was a reason to hurt people. He rips out your tongue first and asks questions later.
“Going back for Brooke was my last attempt to do right, but it cemented my position in the underbelly of Earth. And with no soul left to save, I decided to take what I could get out of the mess, set aside enough that if our paths ever crossed again, I’d have enough to give you any life you wanted. Far away from me.
“Yet here I am, telling you this and putting you in danger of the worst kind. What he’d do to you if he knew you knew his secrets… I can’t even think about it, or I’ll vomit all over this car. I’d rather shoot you in the head myself than let you fall into the hands of Stefan. I’ve seen…I’ve seen what he’s capable of.” My hand trembles at the memory of the flesh trailing across the floor. “And yet I’m still not strong enough to walk away from you.”
But who could ever stay, knowing what I’ve become?
Evie is silent for so long, it gives me time to gather the courage to look at her. Silent tears stream down her face. “Ryder, you have to do something.”
What? “Do something?”
“You can’t let him go about ruining lives.”
“Evie, did you hear nothing I said? How dangerous Stefan is?”
“I heard every word, which is exactly why I’m saying you need to do something.” Evie raises her voice. “He’s at the center of the world that stole our childhood from us, that steals the lives of so many innocents, between drugs and who knows what else! He might as well be a cold-blooded murderer!”
This isn’t the response I counted on. “You got what you wanted. You know everything. Why can’t you just leave it alone?” Leave me.
“Because I care about you, Ryder. By some miracle we have managed to find each other not once, but twice across this fucked-up universe. I’m not letting you risk what we have because you’re involved in something you shouldn’t be!”
“There’s nothing to be done.”
“You can’t believe that.
“I do. To my bones.”
“Then you’re a coward.”
“Call me a coward or any other name you want, it’s nothing worse than what I already know about myself.” My laugh is humorless, utterly lifeless. Even though the rain is coming down harder and harder, I throw the car in drive, unwilling to hear whatever else she intends to spout at me. Evie has no fucking idea what I’m up against. “I haven’t had the luxury of doing things the right way in a very long time.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Evie flips to the defensive, too many people assuming her life was presented on a silver platter, never knowing her true history.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” The rain pounds harder and fiercer, like my heart commands it. Lightning strikes, and despite the windshield wipers being on the fastest setting, I can’t even make out the few feet in front of me. “Fuck!”
A car swerves into our lane, unable to see the lines on the road through the downpour. Flicking on my hazards, I spot a parking lot and pull over. It belongs to an old church, surrounded by oak trees.
“What are you doing!?”
“Pulling over!”
“Why!”
“I can’t see anything, which means nobody else can either! As infuriating as you are, I don’t want to wrap us around a pole.” Yet. “That—what I said about doing the right thing—it came out the wrong way.”
“Then how was it supposed to come out?” Evie crosses her arms in that real bossy way I usually love, but right now it does nothing but spike my misplaced temper through the roof.
“I just meant that I never had another option. Do I love what I do? No. Do I love knowing that I’m turning my back on people who come into The Swan, who need help? No. ” I swear under my breath, knuckles turning white where they grip the steering wheel. “Will I keep doing it so that I have a shot in hell of giving you a life you deserve? Yes. FUCK YES! I will do it every damn day for the rest of my life. Would I do worse , if it meant your happiness? Without a second thought. I wouldn’t bat a fucking eye because you are all I care about, and at the end of the day, my soul is an easy trade.”
“Well, Ryder…” Evie says in a huff. “That doesn’t make you a good man.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
“Do you think I care?” Evie unclicks her seatbelt and faces me, chest heaving, eyes sparking with the same electricity that’s streaking across the sky. “I don’t care that you’re not some golden boy working to take over daddy’s thriving business.”
“Stop.”
“You sit there, agonized and full of regret, pretending like your heart isn’t about to beat straight out of your chest. Like your blood isn’t lighting you on fire right now, despite everything you’ve done. I know you feel it, because I do, too.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But I do. My blood turns scalding at her words, burning a painful path through my body. I keep my mouth shut and my fingers wrapped around the steering wheel, afraid of what I’ll do.
“The way I’ve been imprinted onto your soul…it’s the same way you’ve been imprinted on mine.” Evie unbuckles my seatbelt before placing her hand on my jaw, tilting my face toward her. “And beyond that…you want me.”
Her words launch me into motion and I’m throwing the door open, not even bothering to close it behind me. Space. I need to put space between us. The rain is coming down so hard, my clothes are soaked to my skin in an instant.
Lightning strikes above, and I almost wish it’d just put me out of my misery. Everything I’ve worked for, everything I’ve swallowed, every time I was told to sit and stay and I did, it will all be for nothing if something happens to her. I would do anything for Evie, but it’s how far I’ve gone that puts her in danger. The irony of it slices through me. Everything closes in, my chest becoming too tight, as if my sins have the power to physically suffocate me.
“Ryder?”
Whipping around like a startled wild animal, I stop short at the scene in front of me. The headlights beam behind her silhouette, alighting every raindrop as it sinks into her hair, over her soft skin. Goosebumps raise on her arms, clothes clinging to every curve, like a second skin.
“Don’t come any closer,” I warn.
She’s only about ten feet away, a distance that seems both insignificant and somehow insurmountable. It’d only take a handful of strides to claim her, to feel her lips on mine and have her body the way she’s always had my soul. But at what cost?
Evie takes another step.
Nine feet.
“You were banking on me leaving, weren’t you?”
Eight feet.
“And it terrifies you, that after everything you’ve told me, I’m still here.”
Seven feet.
“You could be doing God-knows-what for God-knows-whom and it wouldn’t change a damn thing for me.”
Six feet.
“You can have me, Ryder. For once in your goddamn life, stop worrying about what it would mean for me, and take what you fucking want.”
Her words are my undoing.
Five feet.
Fuck it. Fuck it all.
Four feet.
If it dooms us both, so be it.
Three feet.
I can no longer deny her.
Two feet.
If we’re going down in the blazing fires of Hell, then at least we’ll burn together.
One foot.
Evie takes the final, pivotal step and her face is in my hands and her mouth is on mine. Years of keeping my distance and banishing belief, but the moment our bodies come together, those obsidian walls crumble into sandy remains, caught up in the winds of a black hole that once existed to steal my joy.
Taking my time, I commit every brush of her tongue to memory. Her lips meld over mine before opening slightly, a surrender, as if they were created for me . I’ve spent a lifetime, sampling watered-down versions of this, never needing or wanting anything the way my body demands to have her now.
She’s a symphony of honeyed sweetness, spiced with vanilla, and I’m an alcoholic who’s spent his entire life drinking whiskey out of a plastic bottle, tasting the Macallan Lalique Fifty-Year-Old Single Malt for the first time.
The rain continues to beat down all around us, controlling the tempo as I study the way her fingers feel in my hair and how her body curves around mine. It’s a feeling you only get once in your life, the long, unanswered questions finally given meaning.
Every wrong move, every mistake, and every sacrifice is suddenly given purpose, because it’s led me here. I’d go back and do it all again if it allowed me this moment, Evie wrapping her arms around my neck to pull me impossibly closer.
“Ryder.” My name is a prayer on her lips, demanding I lose control.
Desire and devotion crash through me as her hands creep under my shirt, drifting over my stomach and my chest, before she grips the waistband of my jeans. And then we’re moving, stumbling up concrete steps that lead to a large, ornate door. It’s beautiful, the whole church is, and if I wasn’t being shoved up against the door, I’d admire the peaks and spire, the detailed architecture’s elegance that has survived the decades.
Rain still runs down our faces despite being under the cover of the church. Evie pulls away to survey my swollen mouth, no longer just a slash across my face. My jet-black hair rumpled from where she’s run her hands through. The wet clothes that do nothing to conceal how much I want her.
My hands flex at my sides, resisting the urge to lift her onto me, but letting her decide where this goes is my cross to bear. Evie’s hazel eyes border on the edge of molten gold, heat and hunger melting everything else away.
Taking her into this church is not the gentlemanly thing to do. I should cover her with a blanket, get her back into the car and switch on the heater. Wait out the rain while her clothes dry, and take her home. We should take the night, talk through all the ways our lives don’t go together and figure out how they could. Logic says that’s the right thing to do.
Our bodies demand otherwise. I can feel it, that burning need calling for my attention, demanding I touch and taste every inch of her. Slowly— so, so slowly —I reach behind me, finding purchase on the brass handle.
Pushing the door open, I allow us passage into what will either be our salvation or the final plunge into hell. Offering my hand, Evie doesn’t hesitate as she takes it and follows me through the doors.
Electricity crackles in the air, as if the storm has followed us inside. Our shoes scuff against the stone floors, echoing through the empty sanctuary. Lightning flashes outside, casting colors across the pews through the stained-glass windows as we make our way deeper into the church, row by row.
Intention burns in my black eyes, as I lead her toward the most privacy a church has to offer. Sliding open the door, I lean into the confession booth and clear my throat. “Father?”
Evie giggles behind me and I turn, smiling at her. “Had to be sure.” She traces where my smile pulls all the way to my cheek, igniting something completely unholy inside me. “I’m not one for sharing, Eves.”
The wooden divider casts patterned shadows over her face, showcasing how she was made with such care. Skin crafted to have a soft, natural glow, while it formed over the rest; a nose that’s ever so softly upturned, lips so pink and so torturous. A chin fit for my gentle grip, so I can guide her hazel eyes back to mine, should they ever drift away.
And her body .
My zipper strains at the notice I take of everything else she has to offer. I’ve kept myself under strict orders never to look at her this way, because I knew that once I did, I’d never stop. Fire surges under my skin and in my heart, as I take in the gold chain around her neck, disappearing into her shirt, once a soft yellow, now soaked into a sheer-looking glass.
Evie’s less than a foot away, waiting for me to claim what’s mine. The thought sends a cannon through my chest. I can have her. She’s mine. She’s always been mine.
We move in harmony, as if Evie saw the shift in my eyes. My hand lightly wraps around her throat, pushing her against the wall. Dragging my nose down the side of her neck, I breathe in, letting her scent fall over me, altering my chemical makeup as it goes. Far more than a physical reaction, it’s the melody of two souls coming together, finding their home after being led astray for so long.
Gripping her hair, I tip her head back, giving my mouth access to her throat, resting it over her pulse point. It flutters against my lips, driving me to madness as I slowly pull away with my teeth. Evie marked my soul long ago, and with God as my witness, I’ll mark her body as mine.
Glancing back to her eyes, I find the only answer I’ve been waiting for. Goosebumps pebble across her skin as I lift her shirt away and fall to my knees. Bowing my head, I become the symbol of supplication and reverence as my fingers work on her jeans until they join her shirt on the floor. Timing my movements to her heaving breaths, her panties come off next, followed by her bra.
Evie reaches to cover herself in a moment of self-consciousness, but I grip her wrists and shake my head. “Don’t you dare.” Flicking my eyes to the bench, I order her to sit. “Spread your legs, Eves.”
She gapes at me. “What if somebody comes in?”
“I’ll scoop their eyes out of their skull and cut out their tongue.”
Evie complies, my guttural words chasing away her insecurity. “Tell me what to do.”
“Sit there and concentrate on how it feels to have me at your mercy,” I growl, dragging kisses and bites up her thighs until she relaxes open, revealing utter perfection.
“I want you to focus on how it feels to have my tongue moving inside of you.” Dipping my head, I allow myself the first taste. Fuck. Her honeyed vanilla swarms my senses, transforming me into a monster, ready to cut down anything that gets between us. “I want you to think of me on my knees, a prayer I’ve offered to no woman, no god. Only you.”
Evie trembles underneath my mouth, hands sinking into my hair and pulling it hard enough to elicit the kind pain that has me begging for more.
Lifting my eyes, I catch Evie pull her lip between her teeth. Starting from the corner of her mouth, I drag my thumb across, forcing her to let it go. “You want to bite something? Bite me. I don’t want a fucking mark on your body except the ones I leave.”
I will spend the rest of my life mapping every inch of her, discovering every spot that makes her quiver and shake. For now, I focus on making this perfect, needing to show her exactly what our bodies—our souls—are capable of.
Feeling my control start to slip away, I pull back as she moans in protest. This needs to be gentle and sweet, but right now I’m beyond thought. “The moment my hands get on you, I won’t be able to stop, so I’m going to tell you exactly what I need you to do. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes.”
“I need to know what all you’ve done before.” My fists clench in anticipation of the answer. Hearing her talk about another man is the last thing I want right now, but it’s vital to know how slow this needs to go.
“I’ve kissed, although after what we just did, I’m not sure I can even call it that.”
Satisfaction coats my tongue. “Have you ever touched a man before?”
“No.”
Fuck . “Have you touched yourself?”
“Yes. Thinking about you.”
“I want you to show me.”
“But I’m…I’m not even sure I did it right.”
“Show. Me. Now.”
Slowly, her hand drifts down her stomach. It’s shy and clumsy, but she shows me what she’s taught herself over the years. I imagine it, Evie thinking about me long into the night, answering a call only the memory of me could answer. Picturing it is easy, because it’s exactly how I’ve spent the last decade.
I watch on as she uses one finger…then two.
“Eves, I want you to use three now. Go slow and use your palm to rub right above your entrance as you do. I need you as ready as you can be, because what comes next is going to hurt if you’re not.”
“How do I know where to put my palm?”
“You’ll know when you feel it.” Any leftover embarrassment falls away as she becomes lost to the sensation. “Now you’re going to take your nipple between your other fingers and roll.”
Panting from restraint, I study her as she does what I say, finding her rhythm and picking up speed. Evie’s head rolls to the side, her moans becoming more fierce, letting me know that she’s close. “Stop.” Evie continues to move, despite my demand, until I grab her wrist, forcing her to comply.
“Now I want you to taste the fingers you just had inside of yourself.” Her eyes widen in alarm. “I want you to know how lucky I am.”
Zeroing in on how she looks, dragging her tongue over her finger, I can’t hold back any longer. She lifts my shirt over my head and kisses the tattoo over my heart, promising a future. With me. Whispers of hope and healing forces wind through me, finding those shards of a broken man, fusing them back together. The only way—and the only woman who can.
Reaching for my black jeans, I can’t get them off fast enough, almost tearing the material as I yank them away and spring free. It’s Evie’s turn to push me onto the bench, as she comes over me in a straddle, placing a knee on either side. The booth becomes all mahoganies and vanilla as I run my hands over her body, curves so soft and unmarred against my harsh lines and inked skin.
Taking her nipple into my mouth, I suck and nip her gently. “ Mine. ”
“ Yours, ” she breathes. Running my fingers down her navel, I slowly guide two of my fingers inside of her, letting her move on them as I relish her softness.
“I need to know you’re ready for this.” Placing my lips on her forehead, I will her to understand how much I treasure this, holding her in any capacity she allows.
“I’m ready. I’ve waited my whole life for this, Ryder.” Evie kisses me gently, fondly. “I’ve waited my whole life for you . It’s always been you.”
The last of the black obsidian wreckage dissipates, the grand finale, as she lowers herself onto me. Evie gasps as the tip slides in and I halt. “I’m sorry–”
“ Oh, God .”
“Don’t pray to Him. Pray to me .” I cover her mouth with mine, realizing it was desire drawing noises out of her, not pain. Evie tries to lower herself farther, but I hold tight to her hips, keeping her where she is, working my tip, letting her adjust.
“ Ryder. ” Evie drags out my name over a growl, utterly out of her mind. All at once, she’s shown me a new definition of worship, her breaths and moans my salvation. “I need more.”
“And I’ve never been able to deny you a single thing,” I whisper in her ear as I remove my hands from where they hold her suspended. Letting her sink as far as she can handle, I remain unmoving. Evie winces, but quickly loses herself in the pleasure that follows.
Bringing my lips to her neck, I suck and nibble, marking her as mine. My hands travel to her ass, yet another part that makes me the luckiest man alive, and I groan my satisfaction. The sound throws her into a frenzy, and she moves too deep too fast, sucking through her teeth.
“Don’t get greedy, Eves.” I withdraw slowly, gently. “We don’t have to go fast. Take your time with me, I want you to savor every inch, as I sink farther inside.”
Evie trembles with restraint as I work my way in. The way she feels wrapped around me, if I hadn’t already been brought to my knees, I’d fall to them now, nothing but a humble offering.
The storm rages outside, as if the universe is screaming in warning, but nothing could stop us now. Our bodies continue to move in sync, speaking a language that’s only ours. A holy moment in a house of worship.
“I’ve always known, Eves. I’ve always known you were my home.”
My words send her over the edge without warning, Evie clenches around me over and over, face morphing into unparalleled pleasure, and my name a cry on her lips as she continues to shudder. The sheer intensity of it, sends me over the edge right behind her.
We’re both panting, bodies spent. The storm quiets outside and I wrap my arms around her, holding her close, wanting to preserve this moment for eternity. Just the two of us. Nothing else. Evie tucks her face into my chest, and I rest my cheek on the top of her head.
There’s no going back to that wasteland of a life. The blood running through my veins refuses to plunge into the cold once more. My heart will no longer tolerate such emptiness. Color will never again be lost to grays and blacks.
“Should I pinch myself again?” Evie smiles, a perfectly bloomed yellow rose. “Just in case?”
“It’s real, Eves.”
“I might not believe you, if not for the soreness.”
“Is it bad?”
“Erm, yeah.” She mindlessly traces the tattoo over my heart. “But nothing—not one moment—that wasn’t worth it.”
Sinking my hands into her hair, I begin massaging her scalp, slow circles until I feel her body relax further. She tips her chin up with a silent request. Happy to oblige, I kiss her sweetly, but the moment her tongue brushes over mine I’m hardening once more.
Evie’s breath catches in her throat. “I thought more time was needed between...”
“That’s accurate for people who haven’t spent ten years craving the other.”
Evie giggles. “True.”
“We have the rest of our lives to do it again. And again.”
As I utter the words aloud, I send up a prayer, pleading with all the strength of my newly saved soul that my past choices don’t cut this visit to heaven short. I’ll figure something out. Until then, I will protect her with my life. “We should probably get dressed.”
“I don’t want to move.”
I chuckle. “You might feel differently if now that the storm has ebbed, someone gets curious about the sounds coming from the confession booth.”
And then she’s up, dressing faster than a firefighter who’s been called to duty. I follow suit, a stupid smile etched onto my face.
Evie doesn’t miss a thing. “You’re so disgustingly hot when you smile.”
“I’ll try to do it more often then, just to piss you off.”
This banter, full of lightness and love, is something I could get used to.
My wet jeans are a bitch to get back on, but finally I’m dressed again. The tension leaves Evie’s shoulders as we make our way out of the booth, finding the church as empty as it was when we came in.
She stops in front of the altar, face screwed up into something awkward and splotchy. “Should we, uh, say thanks or something?”
I snort. “Be my guest.”
Evie approaches the stand. “Oh, uh…Heavenly Father… thank you for the storm that forced Ryder’s head out of his ass.”
I clear my throat.
“And also for your…hospitality and…generosity…” Evie trails off as a priest comes around the back. I almost drop to the ground and howl, watching the flush travel up Evie’s neck. “Oh—hello, sir— Father. Uh. Hi. We were just…you know…getting out of the rain and offering our thanks–” Evie whips around, demanding rescue with pleading eyes as the blush begins to morph into hives.
With a smirk the size of Texas, I step forward. “Good evening, Father. We were seeking shelter from the rain, I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. Our doors are always open.” He whistles with a shake of his head. “That was quite a storm if I’ve ever heard one. The wind was making all kinds of sounds.”
Evie starts coughing, and I point my smile toward the ground, unable to keep it in.
“You must be cold. I’ll get you a blanket before you two head off.”
As soon as the priest disappears behind the altar, Evie smacks me across the arm. “You just left me to the wolf–” She shuts her mouth as he appears again, a blanket in hand.
The priest passes it over but holds tight before giving me a wink. Nodding my head in thanks, I wrap it around Evie, who remains oblivious to the silent exchange, and push her toward the door. “Have a good night, Father.”
“A good night to you both. And a good life.”
As we step out of the safety of the church, we pause, taking in what the storm left in its wake, broken branches and small, fallen trees. A shadowed omen tries to sweep over us, but I refuse to cower to its path of destruction. Instead, I look toward the future.
“Hey, Eves?”
“Yeah?”
“Will you come to the Immoral Support show this weekend?”
My girl— my home —smiles up at me. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”